Chapter 29: Rick arrives
The heavy double doors of the VIP room stood wide open.
Rick stepped slowly into the doorway. He was still wearing those simple clothes. His hands were shoved casually into his pockets. He looked completely relaxed, unbothered by the sheer wealth radiating from those inside the room.
"Is that so?" Rick’s deep voice echoed through the deadly silent room, "Then I guess I didn’t hit you hard enough the first time."
Tristan’s face instantly drained of all colour.
The smug, arrogant expression he had worn just two seconds ago completely melted off his face, and was replaced by a look of absolute terror.
His knees physically knocked together.
He recognised the plain t-shirt immediately, and his broken nose throbbed with pain immediately. The scene from in the lobby flashed through his mind.
"Yo....eee?!" He opened his mouth to speak, but only a pathetic, breathless squeak came out.
The rest of the room however did not share his terror. They weren’t surprised to see Rick. They had all been invited to this batch gathering. They were just surprised he actually had the nerve to show up.
Roy squinted through the bright light of the chandelier as he looked at the shabbily dressed loser and the arrogant smirk on his face instantly twisted into a warm, highly fake smile. He loved playing the magnanimous leader.
"Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to join us," Roy announced loudly, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture. "I told you guys Rick wasn’t the one to miss a free meal."
Chloe leaned forward, leaning more into Roy’s embrace. Her heavily mascaraed eyes narrowed in disgust as she looked Rick up and down, "Roy, why did you even send him an invite? He is ruining the aesthetic of the room."
"Now, Chloe, be nice," Roy chuckled, gently patting her over her ass as if lecturing an innocent kid.
He played the humble host perfectly, but his eyes were filled with mocking amusement.
"We invited the whole batch. It’s only right we include everyone, even if they have hit rough times. We are all equals here tonight. Isn’t that right, guys?" Roy looked around and smiled at the boys wo have been licking his rich, shiny ass all afternoon.
The rest of the table caught Roy’s drift immediately. They sensed the hierarchy and started throwing out condescending taunts to flatter Roy’s generosity.
"Good to see you, Rick," one of the guys sneered, taking a sip of vintage champagne, "Must be nice to finally see the inside of a VIP room."
"Did you get seat in the bus?"
"Look at him. he must have walked the whole way here?"
"I say hundred bucks he walked," a girl in a designer red dress giggled and then turned towards Roy, "Roy, you are too kind. Letting a guy like him sit at our table."
Roy raised a hand, silencing the group with a fake, humble smile. He was thoroughly enjoying the power show, "Enough, guys. Rick is our guest. Come on in, Rick. Grab a chair at the end of the table. Eat up what’s left, mate, it’s all on me tonight."
"Hold on a second, Roy," one of the guys interjected, slamming his crystal glass on the table. "He can’t just walk in here this late and get a free pass. In our circle, if you show up late, you have to drink as a punishment! Grab a bottle of vodka and down the whole thing right now."
"Yeah, why the hell are you so late anyway, Rick?" another guy sneered, pointing a fork at him. "Did you get lost trying to find the VIP floor?"
Chloe leaned forward, giggling maliciously as she rubbed Roy’s chest. "He should do more than just drink. Make him foot the bill! Forty-five grand! Let’s see if Emily’s shadow has even seen a hundred-dollar note in his life!"
"Exactly!" the girl in the red dress added, "If he wants to crash our gathering, he needs to pay up tonight."
Meanwhile, Emily sat frozen in her leather chair not even daring to look up at Gu Fan.
It was her who told Rick about the reunion. But he had explicitly rejected her at his apartment door.
Her brain immediately constructed a delusional narrative. He had changed his mind. He couldn’t stay away from her. He was too obsessed to let her be around Roy alone.
However in front of Roy, Emily was in two minds. Should she... Should she ask him to sit beside her? Will Roy get jealous?
With the calculations going in his head, Emily stood up quickly, a bright, smile spreading across her face.
"Rick!" Emily called out. "You actually came!"
She then pointed at the empty seat beside her, "Just come sit down. Roy is being really generous. Let’s just have a good time."
Rick finally looked away from Tristan, towards Emily, then at the seat and without a word turned his gaze back at Tristan who stood completely frozen in his place.
He was trembling violently, sweating buckets inside. Finally calming down a bit with the fact that there were about half a dozen able bodied men behind him, he turned towards Roy.
"Roy..." Tristan whispered, his voice shaking. "You... you know this guy?"
Roy finally noticed Tristan’s pale face. He just smiled, continuing to play the gracious young master.
"Know him? We went to college together, Tristan," Roy explained warmly. "He’s a nobody. Just a guy who followed us around for four years. He is completely harmless, mate. Don’t worry."
Tristan swallowed hard. Harmless? The guy had shattered his wrist in a fraction of a second and taken down four armed guards without breaking a sweat. If this was a nobody, then Tristan was an insect. But Tristan was too paralysed by fear to speak up and correct them.
Meanwhile Rick didn’t smile, did not even acknowledge the existence of others.
He didn’t even look mildly insulted by the fake pity and condescending taunts. His face was a mask of cold, absolute apathy. He completely ignored Roy’s fake hospitality.
He didn’t even spare a single glance at Chloe who wore a dress that barely left anything to imagination.
Rick turned his head slightly, looking back at the young waiter who was still lying on the floor with another waiter trying to stop the bleeding.
"Get up," Rick commanded. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a heavy, terrifying weight that instantly killed the fake smiles in the room.
The young waiter was terrified, but under the gaze from Marcus, he slowly stood up and walked forward. He was shaking like a leaf, keeping his eyes glued to the floor.
The room went completely silent. The sight of the bleeding staff member instantly ruined their arrogant mood.
"Who hit you?" Rick asked, his voice dead and flat.
The waiter swallowed hard. He looked up, his terrified eyes darting across the massive table. He looked at Roy, then at Chloe, and finally, his eyes locked onto Tristan.
Tristan visibly flinched. He tried to glare at the waiter, trying to use his mother’s authority to silence the boy, but the fear in his own eyes completely ruined the threat.
Rick grabbed the back of the waiter’s neck, not to hurt him, but to force him to look up.
"I won’t ask twice," Rick said smoothly. "Point at the piece of shit who hit you."
The waiter’s hand trembled as he slowly raised his arm. He pointed a blood-stained finger directly at Tristan.
"H-him, sir," the waiter stuttered, "Master Tristan."
"Liar! When did I hit you?"
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